


What Isn't And What Should Always Be

by Destieltentylerjohnlockian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are Dicks, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Castiel, Caring Castiel, First Kiss, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, M/M, Possessive Castiel, Protective Castiel, Romance, Sassy Dean, Worried Castiel, Worried Dean Winchester, Worried Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4057423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltentylerjohnlockian/pseuds/Destieltentylerjohnlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the angels set out to hurt Castiel in anyway they can, Dean is kidnapped and taken to Heaven. In which Castiel goes to the ends of the universe to save his hunter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CHAPTER 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunshinewinchesters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinewinchesters/gifts).



Dean stood next to his bed, contemplating how many bags of salt he would need while twirling an iron rod in his hands and packing for a simple ghost hunt. There’s an unsettling atmosphere concerning this hunt -- a female ghost haunting an abandoned shack. The ghost apparently only kills hunters, though, through, which makes the conclusion Sam's extensive research drew even more bemusing. There has never been any affiliations with hunters and the barn said ghost is haunting, even from the start when it was built twenty years ago. Things just don't add, as Sam had told him over and over, but of course Dean was too stubborn to care about the lack of logic surrounding the upcoming hunt.

"It just seems weird, Dean. The ghost didn't even bother to kill the last guy that went in." Sam says, arms crossed, leaning against the doorway. Dean can tell his little brother isn't too keen on sending him in alone on a possible suicide mission.

"Well maybe it's a nice ghost," Dean jokes sarcastically, throwing a few more bags of salt into his duffle bag. “All I know is that I gotta go in there and kill it. Plain and simple."

"Why can't I go with you?" Sam asks, an argumentative tone to his voice.

"Because it’d be easier to kill the son of a bitch without having to worry about you getting hurt," Dean replied easily, not looking up. “Plus, I need you to keep researching.”

" _Urgh_. I can take care of myself, Dean." Sam shot back, annoyed.

" _Urgh_.” Dean mocked. “I don't care. You're staying here whether you like it or not." With that, Dean zips up his bag of supplies and heads out to the Impala, ignoring Sam's whining as he follows behind him.

He takes his seat behind the wheel, throwing the gray duffle bag in the back seat. Sam's pleas are now starting to unease the older hunter, and are beginning to tear raw wounds of dubiousness in him as well. Seeing as Sam running out to the car to stop him from leaving won’t allow any other choice, Dean conducts a compromise.

"Alright how about if I'm not back by…ten o'clock then you can come look for me. Deal?" Dean proposes, turning the keys in the ignition.

"Yeah, deal," Sam sighed, probably knowing it’s the best he’s gonna get out of the situation. On that more satisfying note, Dean departs from the bunker, having no idea of what he is actually getting himself into.

~~~~~

Dean reached the ancient barn a few hours later. He’d designed a blueprint of every possible escape route the barn possessed just in case something were to go wrong, chalking his paranoia up to Sam’s earlier argument. Now confident in his precautions, he enters the building, bag slung over his shoulder, gun at the ready, plan now set in motion. Each creeping footstep echoes through the barn, ricocheting off the walls, and making it apparent to anyone that might be inside that Dean had set foot in the premises. As he does a three-sixty scan of the barn, he sees just how much it bears a resemblance to that old barn where he had met Castiel for the first time. The only things really standing out to him as different are the symbols he and Bobby had drawn on the walls before the angel’s arrival. As his eyes traverse the walls, he sees a streak of black paint partially hidden by a stack of hay, and wonders if it could be a sigil of some sort. The hunter narrows his eyes and proceeds towards it with caution.

"Well that's just creepy," Dean muses out loud, scratching at the wooden wall next to the haystack and revealing disintegrating black paint. "This looks kinda like a demon symbol." He steps away from the deteriorating walls, growing uncomfortable as the cold air brushes over his neck. The barn suddenly begins to shake, walls trembling abruptly with some great power, and before the hunter can try to identify the source of what’s making the building shudder, an invisible but incredibly strong force throws Dean against the nearest wall with aberrant power. Pain surges throughout his body, as he slams into the wall and slumps to the ground, jolts of agony beginning at the back of his head where he hit it and penetrating into every nerve, leaving behind an unbearable, full-body ache.

Wind thrashes against the wooden walls and ceiling, which are now alive and crackling with electricity, while rods of lightning come from the stormy sky overhead and break several planks that compose the ceiling into pieces. Dean watches as a woman's form emerges from the double wooden doors, a swarm of lesser bodies following in her wake. Though the veil of near unconsciousness brought on by such pain, Dean feels hands drag him to his feet, only to punch him harshly in the side of his head, forcing him back to his knees on the ground. He sees a tidal wave of black swarming behind his eyes, bursts of blue following, and all he can think is how they uncannily resemble the same blue Dean had seen in Cas' eyes the day they met. With that passing thought, he falls into a nearly comatose state, remembering that comforting color of Cas' cerulean eyes. His last thought is a prayer to whoever is listening that somehow he will see that color in the angel’s eyes again.

**  
  
**

~***~

Dean comes to in a blindingly white cell, pristine and clinical, made up of four walls surrounding him and of course, no door in sight. The hunter is bound by thick, rough rope around his wrists and ankles to an equally unyielding metal chair, the only thing in the cell with him. Blood trickles down from the lacerations on his scalp and face, dribbling down over the fresh bruises that have formed across his cheekbones. The passing air cools the too-hot purple splotches that are surely darkening as the minutes pass. He turns his head, hissing in pain at the movement, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. Dean takes inventory of his physical abilities in this state, testing them out by lifting flexing the muscles in his legs, rotating his head, and shifting his arms, but each movement hurts like hell, especially with him bound so tightly like this. His breaths feel strangled, like his airway is constricted with swelling, making it difficult swallow back the blood seeping into his mouth and clogging his throat.

Dean is losing his fight with consciousness, beginning to fade back into a black, hazy dream state, when his focus sharpens to the woman he remembers from the barn calmly entering the cell through a newly manifested door. "It's nice to see you again, Dean," she greets him in a business-like voice.

"I don't think I can say the same." Dean manages to choke out, attempting to keep his dominant, cocky demeanor alive.

"I was just trying to be nice," she replies condescendingly.

"Yeah, well cut the bullshit. Judging from the white walls and magically appearing door, I’m guessing we’re in Heaven, which means you gotta be an angel, and as you know I don't really like angels." Dean bites back, wishing his voice didn’t tremble with pain. His eyes are adjusting to the blinding light illuminating the cell from an unseen light source, and details of the angel are quickly becoming clearer. She’s sharply dressed in a gray pantsuit, her short hair dark brown, angular face framed with straight bangs. Dean instantly recognizes her.

"Hannah."

"Hello, Dean,” the angel replies, eyes cold as her predatory smile.

"Only Cas gets to say that,” Dean snaps back, growing pissed off with the situation. Hannah is definitely one of the last angels he wants to have to deal with.

"I don't have any respect to Castiel, nor regards to what he says!" Hannah yells back, suddenly vehement as she slams her hand down violently on the arm of Dean’s chair. "He's betrayed every angel in Heaven, and killed more than there are people on earth! Traitorous Castiel does not deserve any of our respect!"

"You were helping him!" Dean shoots back in response, coughing to clearing a path through blood obscuring his throat so he can speak again.

"It was all an act! I was trying to gain his trust, so I could turn him against you, just so that he would come back to Heaven and fix all that he destroyed!" she retaliates, fire behind her eyes.

"You bitch!” Dean snarls, “You lied to him! He'd trusted you!" Dean shouts, outraged on Cas’ behalf. He struggled against the ropes, only to grit his teeth in pain as his injuries burn in protest. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"I'd like to see you try,” the angel retorts, now eerily calm and mocking as she is once again in control of herself. Dean has to take several slow breaths to slow his racing pulse and steel himself against the violent rage he feels writhing inside of him.

"If it’s Cas you have a problem with, then why are you going after me?" He’s trying to ask questions, knowing it’s his best shot of getting anywhere, especially seeing how he’s tied down and unable to escape in this condition.

"You're the only thing he cares about anymore! You're the sole reason for everything he's done in his rebellion against Heaven! I've tried compromising, seducing, going along with each and every one of his plans, yet every attempt was a failure, all because I couldn't offer him the one thing he truly wanted: a lifetime with _you_." she finishes, voice icy and laced with poison. Dean’s taken aback, shocked and disbelieving, but one look at her face and he knows there’s no way she could be lying about this. He swallows hard, face burning, heart racing with this newfound knowledge and the thousand emotions that come with it.

"So you're telling me that Cas has got the hots for me?" the hunter asks nonchalantly, trying to downplay his reaction.

"Yes. I suppose, if that’s how you want to put it." Hannah answered disinterestedly, retracting herself from Dean's personal space with an irritated flick of her eyes.

"I don't believe it." Dean smirks blithely, though it pains him to do so.

"Well believe what you must. Either way, we're going to kill you." Hannah replies, eyes settling back to Dean’s.

" _Woah_! Kill me?” Dean splutters, not having foreseen that coming.

"Whatever it takes to get through to Castiel,” she answers with a shrug. After a pause of shocked silence on Dean’s behalf, she continues. “On second thought, we'll make you suffer, which in turn will make Castiel suffer worse than if we just kill you quick and easy. It will be far more effective than just getting it over with, knowing that his precious Dean died in agonizing pain. He deserves even worse for what he has done to our home,” she concludes, voice vengeful. Having made her point, she vanishes without another word, leaving a muscular male angel in her place.

"Well now it's a party in here, isn't it?" Dean jokes bitterly, trying to ease the serious tension in the room so that he doesn’t break down with the weight of everything that’s happening.

"Shut up," the stern, dark-bearded angel growls, flinging his hand in the air and making Dean unable to speak. He tries yelling through it, only to find the one audible sound he can produce is screaming. That knowledge sends a chill down his spine.

"That's better," the angel smiles, drawing a blade from a table Dean that surely hadn’t been there before. "This will sting a little," he warns unapologetically, approaching the hunter. With a swift, calculated flick of his wrist, he slices Dean's chest with the tip of the blade, carving a line of fire into his flesh. Dean is unable to help himself from screaming out in agonizing pain as the fire spreads through him, frying each nerve ending. His voice rips through the air, calling for Castiel and for Sam, each cry drawing tears from his eyes, tears that sting  the fresh carvings as they trickle down his face and fall into the open wounds. Each stroke of the blade feels as if he is being torn open with a dagger made of flame. Dean prays to Castiel, each mental plea cut short by another terrorizing scream. He hoped the angel or his brother would be able to find him, somehow.

 


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EDITING THIS SAMMY!!! HAPPY BRONIVERSARY!!!!!!!!!!

Cas is continuing to flip through a collection of ancient books in search of a cure for the Mark of Cain, when suddenly he hears Dean call his name. He twists his head around in search of the hunter, but finds no sign of him, just rows of arenaceous books in the library. Castiel assumes  it must be another daydream of his, seeing as he’s been seeming to hear Dean’s voice quite a bit recently. He smiles, remembering the last fantasy he had of Dean, where the two of them were eating cheeseburgers, curled up against each other on the couch watching some action movie Dean had picked out. Cas shook his head as if to clear away the thoughts, trying not to imagine what would never be.

He took a larger leather bound book in his hand, committing every detail that could save Dean  ro memory, only to be interrupted by a jarring, familiar scream.

The room remains empty when Cas’ scans it intensely, no trace of Dean in sight. The cries grow louder and louder, tearing Castiel apart at his very core, making him frantic since he can’t identify the source. Cas knew the man's voice had to belong to Dean; the angel could identify that voice from miles away.

Castiel searches the room, extending every sense to find the hunter, when there is a brief lull in the cries, just long enough for a gasped, "Cas, help me. Please. I need you. The angels-"  to be heard. Cas freezes upon realizing the voice is in his head, meaning _that is Dean_. Dean is praying to him, and so fervently it sounds like he is in the very same as Cas. The older Winchester’s prayer is cut off with another earsplitting outcry, shattering Castiel's heart once again. One thought keeps the panic down in his head; he has to find Dean, and he has to find him _now_.

Cas wastes no time in flying to the bunker in search of his hunter. For some ominous reason he can’t immediately find Dean like he is normally able to, which is just another indicator that something is horribly wrong. He initiates the search in Dean's bedroom, then on to every other room in the bunker, all the while calling out for the older Winchester. When he rounds the corner into the dining room, he bumps into Sam, fear written all over the younger Winchester's face.

"Cas, what the hell are you-"

"Dean is in trouble." Castiel declares, voice hard, desperate, and worried.

Sam drops the books he is carrying, immediately turning to grab his jacket from where it is hung over the back of a chair. "What kind of trouble?" Sam demands, eyes wide and concerned.

"The- the angels- they've captured him, I believe." Cas says as that line in Dean’s prayer finally clicks in his head and fits in a crucial piece to the puzzle.

"The angels? He was supposed to be going on a ghost hunt!" Sam sounds taken aback and even more worried now.

"It would seem as though they've tricked both of you."

"Then we have to find him! Is he in the barn still, or in Heaven? Can you zap us there?"

"You're not coming." Cas counters, taking Sam's jacket from his hands.

"What do you mean I'm not coming? My brother is in danger!" Sam yells, livid.

"Yes, and your brother would be extremely upset if I were to put you in harm’s way like that. You're not coming, Sam, I’m sorry."

"I can't believe this! Dean said the exact same thing! You guys are being ridiculous!" Sam argues, disbelieving and upset.

Cas furrowed his brows, frowning at the younger Winchester’s desperation and sadness. He understands their brotherly bond, which is why he understands that Dean would want to keep Sam safe at the bunker. He sighs wearily, bringing himself back into the current situation. Dean needs him now, he doesn’t have time to be arguing with Sam.

"As I said before, Sam, Dean is in trouble, and every second I spend _arguing_ with you is another second I could spend _saving_ him! I will not discuss this any further! I will take care of your brother. Goodbye, Sam." Cas announces just before taking flight.

~***~

Castiel arrives at the barn, scouring the premises for clues. He flips over planks of wood that had fallen from the roof, inspecting a shining, sharp, and disturbingly familiar object his discovery turns up.

"An angel blade." Cas mouths to himself, eyes wide, knowing how excruciating a cut from an angel blade could be, especially to a human. He tries not consider that this could’ve been used on Dean, or he’s sure he will lose his focus. Castiel takes the blade in his hands and examines the thin piece of rope hung from the hilt of the blade, as if it's familiarness is taunting him as he turns the blade in his hand. "Dean," Cas breathes, closing his eyes as he grapples with his anxiety surrounding the hunter.

Castiel approaches a far wall, noticing an all too familiar line of black paint. He drags his fingers along the wood, remembering what had occurred in this very spot six years ago. He’s drawn out of his memory when the phone the Winchesters make him bring wherever he goes starts ringing  incessantly. He quickly turns it off, knowing Sam must be the one calling, but knowing he must focus his attention on the task at hand.

Cas waves his hand across the wall, removing the acrylic paint with his grace. Behind the painted walls lie more fading sigils -- the same ones Dean used with the intent to ward off supernatural entities when Castiel had first met his charge --, and fingernail scrapings that tore at the wood. He assumed these scratches belonged to Dean, and the very thought made him both furious and worried beyond belief. Cas pounds the wall with his fist, realizing the angels' intentions with how they orchestrated this. They’d used this barn to remind Castiel of the day his life changed, the day that would start the destruction of Heaven…the day he met Dean Winchester.

**  
**  
  


~***~

Dean wailed in agony as the angel sawed through his cheek, carving away at his blood-soaked face. The crimson liquid gushed down his chest, joining in with the streams created by the multitude of other cuts. He’s fading in and out of consciousness; in between glimpses of darkness, remembering each moment of his life: Sam's first steps (into his brother’s arms), Sam's first word (‘Bean!’ --  his best attempt at pronouncing his brother’s name), Sam’s first day of kindergarten, Sam on his first hunt, Sam on every hunt after. The memories shift over to Castiel then: meeting Castiel for the first time, fighting battles with him, staring into the blue depths that are his eyes, and finally watching the two people he loves most smile together…smile at him. Each memory comes as a series of pictures, capturing the allurement of Castiel and the fondness of Sam perfectly. Dean lifts the corner of his mouth slightly, thankful that he is one of the selective few that are allowed to see their life flash before their eyes.

With the passing thought, Dean feels an ice cold pang in his chest, one that seems to sap him of any remaining bits of strength left. It twists his insides, clawing ravenously through him, poisoning his dying body with the poison of unshakeable cold. The hunter embraces the cold, knowing that he isn’t going to run from whatever comes next, but fight it head on, just as he always has. Until his dying breath, he will fight. Fight for Sammy, fight for Cas, fight for _them_.

"We're not finished with you yet, Dean." Hannah whispered ominously into Dean's ear, then proceeds to slowly draw out the tip of the angel blade from Dean's abdomen. "The only way to hurt Castiel's heart is to repeatedly stop yours." Dean doesn’t even have time to fully register her words, too blinded by the all consuming agony that had finally found purchase in his chest before Hannah plunges the blade straight through his frantically beating heart.

It gives its last beat just as Dean realizes what she meant.  

~***~

As Castiel enters Heaven, he’s suddenly struck with a gut wrenching wave of emotional pain, unlike anything he’s ever felt before. The ache swells with each passing moment that he feels the sudden absence of prayer from Dean. Deeply frightened, Cas searches Heaven vigorously and with an intensity that scares the angels he questions. He figures the emotional pain must mean something very serious has happened to Dean, and that sends Cas almost over the edge. He thinks he must look unhinged and scarily tenacious, looking for the man he loves, hunting down any angel he believes could provide any information as to Dean's whereabouts.

He flies to Heaven’s prison, deciding it’s as good a place as any to try next, and spots two angels guarding the one occupied cell and made his way to them. The younger of the two, a frail blond man, starts laughing as Castiel approaches them; the other, an older woman possibly around fifty years old, her black hair already turning gray, shushes him, turning her head to Castiel with a disgusted sneer, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. "Where's Dean Winchester?" Castiel demands, demeanor authoritative and demanding of respect, eyes blazing lividity.

The angels raise their eyebrows mockingly and scoff at Castiel.

"Your charge? Not of our concern. He was of no worth to us, or anyone else, for that matter." The blond ridiculed. Cas took both angels by the collars of their shirts, smashing them against the wall.

"Do not speak of Dean that way. He's worth more than every angel in Heaven, including myself." Castiel growls harshly, bitter rage fueling him.

"You're missing the one most important word out of that sentence," the woman comments, bringing Cas up short. Castiel furrows his brow, not comprehending the riddle. He runs the sentence through his head, but all he can focus on is his fury spurred on from the insults towards Dean.

A moment passes and the angels grow weary of Castiel, and speak.

" _Was_! He _was_ worthless."  The young angel sighs sharply.

Realization courses through Castiel, obliterating from his core on out. His very Grace feels like it has been mangled into bits and pieces of nothing. No. No way. He _refuses_ to believe this is the truth.

"You're lying!" Cas screams, wrapping a hand each of their throats and squeezing so hard Grace shows in their eyes. Its presence only causes him dig his fingers in between the sensitive tendons, seeking out the vulnerable space between their tracheas and jugular veins.

"No!" Both angels choked out at the same time, while the older one continues, "He's dead. Just now. Hannah killed him." Cas’ mind won’t register anything anymore, everything hurts and nothing makes sense and he _can not fathom Dean Winchester is dead_.

"Hannah? _Hannah? She lied to me_?"

"She tried to help you. To take you away from them! When will you realize how meaningless and destructive the Winchesters are!" The female angel wails as Cas digs his fingers into their necks even further, Grace shining brighter in their eyes and now mouths.

" _Don’t you dare speak of them in such despicable ways_!" Cas roars, drawing out his angel blade and plunging it through the woman’s stomach, then yanks it out, only to skewer the blond’s heart with it. Their silence leaves him with one deafening thought:

_Dean Winchester is dead._

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! and thank you for all the kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, and comments!!! Ill try to finish and post chapter 3 as soon as i can!! Thanks again to everyone, especially Sammy (sunshinewinchesters)!!! Okay, Sammy says I should write something funny at the end of this soooooooo..... since she writes 'leave kudos for a moose hug' ill write leave kudos for a squirrel hug.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. Schools been taking up all of my time. Sammy told me to post this and says this is her favorite fanfic that I have written so just for her I'm posting it here. I'll try to post Chapter 2 as soon as I can. Thank you for editing this Sammy!!! If you hadn't then this would've sounded like sh**. You're the best baby bro(sis)! Hope this makes you feel better! Love ya!!! XD And thank you to anyone who read!!!! Id love feedback so comment, kudos, and subscribe if your a wayward hunter!!!


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